


His Bargain

by Elywyngirlie



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Belonging, Do Force Bonds work like that?, F/M, Fingering, Oral Sex, Rey and Kylo overthink (tm), Reylo - Freeform, Sexual interest, That TIE Fighter jump tho, The Darkness - Freeform, fighting across the stars, sexual awakening, trailer inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-01-23 23:36:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18559408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elywyngirlie/pseuds/Elywyngirlie
Summary: "Name your price."“You, Rey. You’re my price.”Inspired by that jump in the Rise of Skywalker trailer and that picture of Kylo in the desert.





	1. Chapter 1

She had bet her whole world against it. Rey inhaled sharply and felt, rather than saw, his TIE coming. Its harpy shriek, his entire focus narrowed on her. His emotions rippled through the bond and she latched on to them--anticipation, desire, fury--before he slammed down the wall. She flinched. 

 

And then pulled out her lightsaber. This would work. It had to. She saw that it had. 

 

His fighter came into view. She turned, waiting, muscles protesting her crouch, the Force a taut line between her and him. 

 

It was always her and him. Always circling, wary, interested, opposed but unopposing. It would always be them. 

 

She began to run. She flung herself into the Force, let herself flow through it, heard his scream, and threw herself into the air. She twisted, her lightsaber an easy extension of her, and she felt it rip through the ship’s hull, parting easily beneath her. She heard his shout as she arced over him and landed on her feet. 

 

Rey watched as he struggled to control the ship, its wings tearing open as it plunged into the sand. The starboard wing split off as he jerked the ship into a skid and slammed it into a hard stop. Her breath froze in her lungs, the heat of the desert pushing air through her, and her fingers creaked on the lightsaber. 

 

She was trembling. 

 

Rey forced herself to stand up, to switch off her lightsaber, although she continued to keep it in a loose hold. She waited for him to emerge. 

 

A ruffle through the Force. Irritation but there, underneath--intrigue. She held back a smile. 

 

It would work. The Force had not led her astray. 

 

He stumbled out, cloak flaring around him, and she tried not to snort. It was ridiculous. His hair was a riot of curls, his lips twisted into a snarl as he stomped across the desert to her. The first of the suns had set and had given the air an odd lilac quality--soft and inviting. 

 

Kylo paused a few meters from her, cloak wrapping around in him the wind, his face a war of need and rage. His eyes held hers and she felt the bond eek open. 

 

He would hear her out. 

 

“You know why I called you here,” she began. “It is the greatest evil that we could possibly face. He is coming and will be here soon.” 

 

He said nothing. She had expected something. Licking her lips, she continued. 

 

“The only way we can defeat it is together.” 

 

Kylo smirked. “For this, you called me here? Called me to deliberately wreck my ship? Strand me on this forsaken planet?”

 

“You can leave if you want.”

 

“You and your rebels will let me leave?,” he sneered. “You haven’t changed. Always so naive”

 

Rey bared her teeth at him. She did not want another fight. They had torn into each other across the galaxy, bore each other’s scars like medals. This was not that fight. Recalling that night, the one she struggled to fight, Rey closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. 

 

“Please, Kylo. We need you. We...we can’t do it alone.” 

 

She expected to see him gloat. She expected preening, a surge of triumphant in their bond. Instead, it fluttered quietly. 

 

“I expect to be paid for such a service.”

 

She scoffed. “Isn’t ridding the galaxy of our mutual enemy reward enough?”

 

“No,” he replied quietly. “Every moment I’m here is another moment that a greater evil within the First Order steals my throne. You believe that I am a tyrannical autocrat? You haven’t met Hux.” There was humor and truth in his words and she nodded, a gesture that she understood. 

 

“Name your price.” Perhaps it was the lightsaber. She ran her fingers over the repaired handle. She could forge another, she thought wildly, her heart an erratic rhythm in her chest. 

 

“You, Rey. You’re my price.” 

 

She gasped and jerked her head up to meet his steady gaze. He was restrained, emotions under control, except for the gentleness she had glimpsed unexpectedly throughout their skirmishes through the stars. 

 

“You can’t mean that.”

 

“I do. You’re the price, Rey. You want me to help you destroy this evil? All I ask for is you. For all time. Take it or leave it.” 

 

She quivered. Options raced through her mind. What could he want from her? Did he think he had things to teach her? Or was it...what she sometimes glimpsed in their bond, a twisting of sheets and faint sighs? She licked her lips again and was all too aware of how silently he stood, waiting. Not pressing his suit. He was implacable. 

 

She swallowed, a loud clicking in a parched throat. The second sun was setting and the valley would turn frigid. Finn and Poe would come from her soon. She sniffed. The galaxy hung in the balance on her answer and she suddenly hated him for it. Everything for her. She was traded away again, nothing but portions. 

 

She heard him inhale deeply and saw again the tenderness that he had allowed to slip. She needed to know the details, she couldn’t just agree. She opened her mouth to argue when a shockwave of darkness flooded the Force. She dropped to her knees and she saw Kylo stagger, gripping his head, as a million voices cried out all at once--and then fell silent. 

 

The darkness was here. It was now. She needed to decide. She looked up, met Kylo’s dazed expression. 

 

“Alright. You have me.” 

  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok you asked for more. Ummm, I do angst and sex (see other works) so be prepared for both. Updated tags.

Rey scuffed her foot in the sand, expectant. Kylo should have crowed his victory, should have demanded whatever he wanted from her in that moment. Instead he stood, shoulders hunched, eyes scanning. 

 

“I expect your friends are around here somewhere. Let me gather some items from my ship and we will join them.”

 

Rey’s head popped up, her mouth a pleasant shaped O. 

 

“You’re not...you’re not…”

 

“Wait here,” he snapped, striding back to his ship. He never just walked, she noticed. He strode, he thundered, he prowled. An air of intention hung around his every move. She waited, her insides a clattering jumble, her heart ringing an alarm as she turned over what it meant to be his. 

 

Did this make her...did this mean she’d have to...did she want to? 

 

Each thought failed to finish as shivers thumped along her spine.

 

What she could glean from the bond was that Kylo was similarly a mess of frantic energy, atoms colliding within him with spectacular explosions. 

 

Perhaps he didn’t know either, she mused. 

 

His pace as he returned toward her was militant and resolute. His face was a hardened scowl. He paused in front of her, looking down his long nose. 

 

“Well?”  He gestured impatiently. Rey narrowed her eyes at him. 

 

“Belonging to you doesn’t mean you get to order me around,” she snarled and Kylo bared his teeth at her. The bond between them snapped, humming in relief. This territory was familiar, known, comfortable. They wore it well like a beloved tunic. 

 

“He is here,” Kylo ground out. “Closer than you could ever imagine. Do you have any idea how dangerous Sheev Palpatine is?”

 

He did it. He said the name. Rey’s retort caught and froze, ice splinters in her throat. How much did she know of him? Doubt rose, digging long nails into her. She thought she had known Han Solo or Luke Skywalker. She thought she had known Princess Leia. She had been wrong on all accounts. 

 

She swallowed and turned east: “Follow me.” 

 

She could feel anger crash through him--not at her, but himself. Ears flooded with red and she lifted her chin. Rey set a steady clip across the desert toward the cliffs. Night had fallen and she flipped on her flashlight. 

 

“Is my...mother there?” 

 

“No. Keep an eye out. The desert is active at night.” She didn’t mean to be curt with him but she didn’t know how to be anything else. 

 

Finn and Poe were waiting for her just around the bend of the first cliff. When they saw Kylo, Rey glared at them. They had discussed this. She had assured them it would work. She didn’t need more conflict now. Finn’s jaw clicked as it tightened and Poe laid a hand on his shoulder.

 

“So you succeeded, Rey. Our faith was never in doubt,” he said smoothly. He rested a warm palm on her cheek and Kylo stiffened behind her, hissing through the bond. 

 

“I’m sorry it took so long. Kylo has some important news for us,” she said, shrugging off Poe’s hand. What did it mean to belong to the man behind her? Did it mean constant jealousy? What did he want from her? 

 

It was too confusing a puzzle to solve.

 

Poe pursed his lips. 

 

“And we have news from the General.” He didn’t bother to hide the malice in his eyes as he looked at Kylo. 

 

“Let’s head back then,” Rey said wearily. She slipped her hand through Finn’s giving it a gentle squeeze, but slid back at the roar through the bond. Turning her head she snipped it shut and Kylo glowered at her, his lips cruel again, his gaze mocking. Rey threw on her hood and the four hiked their way across the canyon back to the base. 

 

“You better hide him,” Poe muttered. “It won’t be easy to stop the others from trying to hurt him.”

 

“I have a change of clothes,” Kylo butted in. “And none of you know my face.” It was true. He always wore a cracked helmet in his announcements. No one knew who Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader, really was. Some suspected it was Hux in another get up and that worked to everyone’s benefit. 

 

“Then you better change them now,” Poe shot back. Kylo squared his shoulders and towered over the other man. Need radiated off of him, glove creaking, his mouth twisted like a knife. 

 

“Kylo,” Rey said. She said it like the way she would say bomb or hide. He only stiffened at her words and ducked into a cavern. Rey sent the other men warning looks. 

 

“This is a bad idea,” Finn muttered. 

 

“You didn’t feel what I did in the Force,” Rey supplied. “When he arrived, there was a darkness in the Force. Something happened where millions died all of a sudden.”

 

“Another Starkiller?” Poe asked, looking at Finn for confirmation, who only shrugged. 

 

“We need to ask the General when we get back,” Rey said before turning back to Poe. “What was your news?”

 

“We found the remnants of the second Death Star in the east Endor sea. Leia is ordering us to evac tomorrow morning.”  Rey inhaled sharply. This was it. What they needed to defeat Palpatine was buried in that wreckage. Hope warbled within her for a moment.  She puzzled over her next steps for a moment before she heard Poe and Finn start.

 

Kylo emerged from the cave dressed in blue slacks, a tan shirt, and a black vest. He looked...his hair...that grin…

 

Rey felt spliced and she looked away.  

 

“Too bad that’s all you got from him,” Poe spat before marching the last dozen meters to the base. Rey could feel Finn’s appraising gaze and knew he had arrived at some conclusion, probably a correct one, before he followed. 

 

Kylo turned toward her, shouldering his duffel. His face was granite but she could see the anxiety leaking out around the tightened lines around his eyes. She felt like she should reassure him. She opened her mouth and he looked at her, expectantly. She closed it and lead him to the base. 

 

Without thinking, she guided him to her sleeping quarters. Maybe it’ll be safer here, she told herself desperately. But her room became confining and dingy with him in it. He was too tall, too loud, too broad. The bed squeaked when he sat on it and she realized that it was only made for one. What the kriff, she swore, and she knew that Kylo had grasped that fact too. 

 

“What does it mean,” she barreled, supposing that it was better to tear the scab off now and wear another scar of his, “what does it mean that I am your price? What do you want?” 

 

Kylo studied her, the way he studied a battle plan. All bones and sharp angles and that alluring hollow at the base of her throat. 

 

“What do you think I mean, Rey?” 

 

She didn’t care for his response and snarled at him. Like a kitten, he thought ruefully and wondered if she would let him pet her head. 

 

“What do you want it to mean?” He hoped the rephrasing was clear. Hell, he wasn’t sure what he meant but he certainly did not enjoy the casual way Poe laid his hand on Rey’s cheek. He knew about Rey. He knew all of her, from the way she’d fling back her hair, the timbre of her stomp when she angry, the dewy salty taste of her sweat, the way her back arched when she reached her pleasure. Anger spiky and looking for a fight wound its way through his veins. He didn’t suspect she had shown that face to another. Did he care if she did? 

 

“I won’t be your slave. And I won’t turn to the dark side,” Rey was seething as she paced the tiny room. 

 

“When a man asks a woman to be his, what do you think he’s asking?” Kylo made his voice as indolent and insinuating as he could. And he saw that the hit had landed by the straightening of her spine, the ducking of her head, the curling of her fists. He stood abruptly, crowding her against the wall. She smelled like sand and sweat and hope and he wanted to crush it to his mouth and inhale it forever.

 

“Do you think I meant what I saw in the forest that night? Do you think that’s what I wanted from you?” His lips brushed her ears and she grew hard beneath him. Unpliant. How she always was. 

 

Rey closed her eyes, blowing out her breath. Kylo’s hair tickled her cheek and she wanted to bat it away. She couldn’t wish that night away well enough. It was foolish. 

 

“It was just physical, that’s all,” she told him coolly. Kylo arched a noble brow and Rey bit back that rising disgust within her. She hated how small and insignificant he made her feel. How stupid. He’d done it again with his question about what it is meant when a man asks a woman to be his. It meant sex didn’t it? 

 

Rey was naive enough to think most things meant sex and cynical enough to believe very few things meant love. 

 

“I’m glad to know it was the thought of me that made you so...physical,” he purred. 

 

“And I’m glad to know what you expect of me,” she shot back. She shoved the image she snatched from his mind back at him. It was Kylo, naked, on his knees, Rey sprawled beneath him, on all fours, panting, sweat slicked hair, Kylo running his hand over her back with a tenderness that spoke of familiarity.

 

“I don’t know your bed is quite wide enough for that,” Kylo replied coolly. Rey could hear the cracks in his foundation and shoved past him. 

 

“Then what do you want?” 

 

She could feel his gaze, weighing and wanting. She hated that he had seen her in a moment of weakness. She had been in the forest and they had been fighting, the bond all too real, the lightsabers all too biting. He had flickered out and she had wrapped her burn up with moss. She was lying next to the fire, turning over the image in her head. She had stolen it from Kylo’s sleep. 

 

She wondered if that’s he saw her. In his dream, she was supple, golden hued, arching into his touch, her breath soft and yearning. His scars were missing. Hers were too. Their lips clung to each other, their hands roving and Kylo took delight in plunging into her. Rey had wondered what it would feel like to have him within her. Would she...would he...She bit her lip and had slid her hand beneath her waistband, relieved and embarrassed at how wet she was. A part of her scolded her. He wasn’t supposed to be the one to relieve the ache that we building within her. 

 

But as she turned that image over in her mind, the rocking of his hips, the way he would feel her, the possessive yearning look in his eyes, she found her hand working herself furiously, her own hips rocking up and his name jerked from her lips. 

 

And when her eyes had opened, the golden haze had burned away. Kylo had been gazing down at her, startled. Pleased.

 

Knowing. 

 

“If you think that what’s happening here, then I suggest stripping,” Kylo drawled, leaning against the wall. 

 

“What?” Rey asked, dazed. 

 

“I said strip.” He wore command easily. It was doubt that creased his face and badgered his steps. But he was royalty, after all, Rey told herself. She tried not to feel how comforting it was that he was giving her an order. Sex was what he wanted. Her body, nothing more. 

 

In quiet moments, when she was sure she was alone in her mind, she knew he already had everything else. He had plundered her mind upon their first meeting and the bond grew stronger since until it felt like they could barely go a day without colliding into one another, without their dreams entwining together, until their serrated edges were blunted. When those bonded moments ended, reality was less sharp, less saturated, blurry and lacking. 

 

It made sense that they would follow their mind with their bodies. This was the story she told herself as she stripped. She did keep hold of the lightsaber and saw him smirk. 

 

Rey expected derision. She knew women threw herself at the supreme leader. One day, while repairing an X wing, the bond had thrown her into the throne room, glittering and gaudy, with oddly angled art--an utter delight to her magpie sensibilities. Kylo sat on his throne, face hidden, but naked to her. She saw women clad in sheer scraps rest on his knee, run a curious hand over his helmet, mouths cooing.  His impatience rolled over them both. The women were sultry and enticing, curved in ways even Rey could find tempting. Kylo seemed irritated with the lot of them and almost bored. Bored by women whose nipples were all too clear, whose...Rey blushed. 

 

He could hardly find hers worthwhile. And sadness took it up its residence in her heart. Rey forced herself to hold his gaze. 

 

Kylo stalked around her, footsteps slow and hungry. The pretence was gone and only longing remained. The cruelty his mouth bore so well was absent. He paused behind her, a sweeping assessing gaze, cataloging and quantifying. She thought of the tall willowy woman in court, whose shimmery grey dress hugged lush curves, full breasts barely swathed in fabric. She wanted to cover her own breasts. 

 

“Don’t.” His voice was ragged. She looked up and met his eyes. She remembered that night at her AT-AT when a storm was rolling over Jakku’s plains. Thunder rolled over her and lightning arced overhead. The air was thick with expectation and violence. Her skin had prickled with the electricity. 

 

It was the same now. 

 

Her lips crashed into his and his arms swooped around her. She trembled. She knew the taste of his skin on hers and savored every moment as his hands learned the knobs of her spine. 

 

“You’re too thin,” he told the freckle under her eye before his mouth took hers again. 

 

“There’s not enough food for all of us,” she confessed. She shouldn’t be telling him this. His rough hewn shirt dragged across her breasts as he moved downward and she bit her lip as her toes curled. He had stolen one cry from her already. Not again. Not like this. 

 

“Then I’ll make sure you are fed enough every day.” He dropped kisses along her collarbone, hands creeping up to cup her breasts. She sobbed. So small, so uninteresting. 

 

“No, never,” he whispered. He looked up at her, cradling her face. “Never, ever uninteresting. Perfect. Delightful. Haunting.”

 

“Haunting?” Her voice cracked and he flooded their bond with his chaotic desire, anything and everything at once, unsure and uneven. 

 

“You make my dreams less than restful,” he told the curve of her neck before his tongue flicked out and sent her trembling. She tugged at his shirt. 

 

There was a knock on the door. 

 

“General wants to talk to us in five,” Finn called. And as his footsteps retreated, Rey pulled away. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know who the biggest cockblock here is. Leia or Finn. 
> 
> Or is it both? 
> 
> They, uh, pick up next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

 

They left early in the morning, Rey and Kylo jammed into the Falcon with Finn, Poe, and Rose. The malice between Poe and Kylo sliced the air with their too thin politeness. Rey shoved Poe and Finn into the cockpit with Kylo’s protesting winging off the metal halls. 

 

“This is my ship! My inheritance,” he snarled.  Rey smacked his shoulder

 

“Should have thought about that before you killed him,” Poe drawled and Rey had to restrain Kylo, shouting in his ear, to stop the larger man from rendering Poe into an abstract concept of a man with limbs askew. She knew Kylo was letting her win; there was no way her smaller frame could stop him if he really wanted to harm the other man. She wondered why he was holding back. Still he felt the growl reverberating in his chest, the tightness of his breath as he swore at Poe and retreated. 

 

“He’s dangerous,” Poe murmured and Rey whirled at him. 

 

“Yes but so am I,” she seethed before stomping after Kylo. She shook her head. Stupid flyboy. Both of them, really. Thinking with their cocks and not their brains. She hoped Leia could get Poe under control. She knew the man had changed but it felt like he had something to prove with Kylo. This was not her fight. She had to focus on Palpatine, on the sheer evil oozing through the galaxy, infecting the very Force that flowed through her. She could feel the darkness hovering around her and she threw up every shield that she could muster. 

 

Rey needed to meditate. Last night had badly shaken her. 

 

But, of course, at that moment, the Falcon decided to give a groan and a shudder. Letting out an impatient sigh and grimacing skyward, Rey stalked toward the main cabin--

 

\--where Kylo was already lifting up the floor panel and sliding into the pit, his brows a tight furrow.

 

“Get me the aldovian wrench and the binders would you?” he asked offhandedly as he peered into the Falcon’s guts. She hastily grabbed the items and watched him as he jerked and torqued and slapped the Falcon back into gear. He swore, his lips puckered, his tongue peeked out, and he looked almost...charming. 

 

She looked away and heard Poe give an affirmative shout. The Falcon let out a little sigh and began to purr. She raised a brow and Kylo searched her face. He saw whatever he wanted in that brow raise and he wiped at his forehead. 

 

“This hunk of junk,” he swore, but affectionately, slapping at the side as he hauled himself out of the pit. He looked over at Rey. “We need to mediate.” 

 

Meditate, meditate, of course, center herself, reach for the Force. Was this his knee pressing against hers? Her heart threatened to burst out of her ribs. His knuckle skimmed her knee. His breath caught. 

 

She knew the taste of his mouth and she wanted more. 

 

The realization sank its way into her bones as his thigh rested against hers. She had never allowed herself to want more from him. Even that night in the forest, when she frantically worked out the rising physical need he wrested from her--even then she knew it wasn’t about wanting him. 

 

To take more from him was forbidden. 

 

His fingers drifted over her cheek. 

 

“We can’t,” Rey’s voice cracked. 

 

“Why not?” It wasn’t a real question. Whatever reason she offered would be batted aside, battered away with logic. 

 

“We...we’re too different.” She had to try, her lips hovering near his. His gaze raked over her face, cataloging every freckle. 

 

“We’re identically different,” he corrected before cupping her neck and covering the rest of the distance with a gentle tug. She barely had time to protest the nonsense of his reply until she was full of him. Full of heat and leather and cool lips and warm breath, his hand gliding around to cradle her. He enveloped her and she wanted nothing more than to curl in the space between them and live in that kiss. 

 

“They’ll hear,” she eventually whispered when he let her take a breath.

 

“Are you that loud?” he murmured. Pleased. Interested in finding out. Rey blushed and rubbed her face on his shoulder. This was forbidden, she reminded herself, as she traced her lips along his neck, that sharply inclined jaw, teeth skating on his ear lobe. His own intake was loud and she let out a satisfied rumble. 

 

They knew exactly which buttons to push. 

 

Kylo stood abruptly and pulled her to her feet. 

 

“This isn’t working,” he growled and she shrank back. He looked around them before dragging her down a corridor and slapping the wall. A hidden panel slid up and she was too surprised to protest when he shoved her inside. A tiny strip of dingy lights ringed the space and it was too small for them. He was pressed against her and she realized that was his plan all along when he hitched her leg around his waist and closed the door. 

 

“Smuggler’s hole,” he whispered before kissing her again. Excitement thrummed through her veins and she let her hands explore his back. This is what she wanted to feel. Bunched back muscles, that broad space, and she loathed his clothes in that moment. She wanted them gone. 

 

“I don’t think we have space for that,” he told her, picking up on her thought. Rey let out a frustrated scream that was swallowed by his eager mouth. 

 

“Then what do we have space for?” she demanded. He pressed her shirt aside, breasts hidden by her hand and he groaned. 

 

“Why does everything have to be so difficult with you?” 

 

“Wha--” Her protest melted into a whimper as he knelt and sucked her breast through her band. She could feel the pull, her legs tightening around him, and she rocked against him. He shifted her, held her against the wall and with his breath on her forehead, pressed against her. Rey clutched him, gasping as she felt the length of him. 

 

Oh gods it was gonna hurt. There was no way--

 

“It’ll work. Not here. Not now.” He was trying to be comforting. But he was gruff, famished, jerking senselessly against her. His cock’s insistent glide along her core sent  shocks racing up her spine, her toes curling in her shoes and kriff, she wanted more. 

 

Kylo pulled away and she cried at the loss. Kissing her savagely, teeth scraping her bottom lip, he slipped his fingers beneath her waistband and oh she cried out when leather scraped against her wet folds. His pleasure, his pride, rippled through the Force and gods she desperately wanted him to fuck her, she wanted it so hard that she tore half moon bruises into his skin as his fingers dragged through her folds. He was fiercely proud of the breathy moans that he drew from her and his hips dug into her and she had no clue what was doing when she took him in her hand. 

 

He let her peek at him, at night, when images of her rosy nipples and pert ass would drive him thrusting into his hand, nails scraping along his ridge, amazed at how wet she would be, how she would call his name and babble how she could be only his. 

 

“Is that why you asked?” she demanded between moans. Kylo bit her and circled her clit, pulling away, circling back, before plunging a finger into her. She lifted herself up and then slid down his finger, shuddering as he crooked it along her walls. 

 

“Oh stars,” she moaned and she gripped him tighter. 

 

“Let go of me, Rey. Take it. Take your pleasure,” he demanded and she shook her head stubbornly. He bit her ear. “I’m ordering you. You belong to me. Do as I say.” 

 

He slipped another finger inside of her and she buried her groan into his shoulder. She was persistent now, chasing after that building heat in her core, his thumb merely a tease against her clit and it was driving her mad. Letting go of his cock, she held herself on his shoulders and allowed him to hold her weight as she bore down on his hand. 

 

“This is just the beginning,” he swore. “You and me, alone. On your knees for me. Your pretty little mouth on my cock. My tongue replacing my fingers. I’m going to fuck you until you can't walk, Rey.”

 

“Seems stupid,” she moaned. “Can’t walk, no food.” Her thoughts were staccato and stars the fire was burning her and she wanted it to do nothing more than rip her apart, if he would just move his finger…

 

Grinning into her hair, he dragged his thumb to her clit and pressed. She screamed, stuffing her fist into her mouth, until he ripped it away. He needed that sound. He needed to feel her squeezing his fingers, needed to feel the wetness through the leather. 

 

He let her slide down the wall as he withdrew a shaky hand. Rey watched him through dazed eyes as he lifted his hand and licked his gloves clean. She wasn’t sure why that thrilled her, made her body hum again. She yanked him down for a hard, through kiss, his hand nesting in her hair. 

 

“I can teach you,” he reminded and she laughed, a wild joyful thing. 

 

“I’m not supposed to want you,” she said and he tapped her nose. 

 

“You gave yourself willingly. Don’t overthink it.”

 

Rey eyed him skeptically. “Advice I’m sure you’ll follow too.” 

 

His hands glided along her shoulders, his lips swollen, a purplish mark on his collarbone where she had feasted. He was lost in thought, lost in the feel of her skin and she found it impossible to think that she couldn’t wait to be naked before him again, to let those hands trace every curve, follow every line, plunder and know her again. 

 

“Are you sure this isn’t a dream?” he asked and she kissed him at the corner of his mouth. 

 

“Positive. Now let’s rejoin the others. We have an evil emperor to take down.” Slightly dazed, Kylo nodded and led her out of the closet. Their fingers remained intertwined the rest of the trip. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man I haven't written smut in so long. Hope it didn't disappoint. This really was just supposed to be like 3 chapters and 2 of them were him ordering her about for sex. Stupid plot brain.


	4. Chapter 4

On happier days, Kylo would allow himself to imagine what a reunion with his mother would be like.  He imagined tears and recriminations; scoldings; perhaps legal wrangling and long insufferable meetings with the family attorney (the memory of those dinners still stung, after all these years). But he always imagined her enfolding him in her arms, even as he towered over her. The forgiveness bestowed upon him, even if begrudgingly. 

 

The memory of her small frame squeezing him tightly, the strength in her tiny hands as she wished him the best the day he left with Luke held his cracked heart together.  The wrinkles around her eyes had tightened and he remembered the feel of her hand on his cheek--remembered the weathered feel of his dad’s the moment he drove his lightsaber into him. 

 

Kylo remembered too much. His heart was a fragile caged thing, the chains of darkness not quite suffocating. He had his father’s heart, Snoke had sneered. But Kylo was never certain that he had his mother’s steely will. 

 

Sensing his distress through the bond, Rey squeezed his hand. Kylo looked down at them, her calloused fingers laced with his, her thumb tracing his knuckles. She was nearly dwarfed by him and he wished he could make himself smaller. 

 

He inhaled and lifted his chin, refusing to cower as Poe shot him a dark look as the ship settled down. He expected them to land somewhere familiar. He did not expect Endor. He stiffened as he arrived at the bottom of the ramp, the sharp damp smell so familiar to him from trips to this godforsaken planet. 

 

Kylo trailed after Rey, aware of the looks, aware that he was nothing more than a little dog scampering after a stronger master. He wanted to touch his lightsaber, reassure himself but Rey, in her foresight, had insisted on holding it. Not like that would prevent from doing damage or protecting himself, he had snorted, even as he handed it over. 

 

He wondered who truly owned whom in this relationship. 

 

If that was an even a word that he could use to describe their hurried fumbling and fights across a galaxy. 

 

His chest tightened as Rey lead him to a small bunker. 

 

“You don’t trust me,” he pronounced. She hesitated, teeth grazing her still swollen bottom lip. 

 

“It’s not me,” she said before leaving him in--before the lock clicked into place. Kylo snorted. Of course they didn’t trust him. It would be true folly if they did but if his mother couldn’t understand the danger that they were in with the return of Palpatine, then they were truly all kriffed. 

 

She had been in the same room with the monster. She would know what his power felt like, could probably feel it thrumming in the Force even now. 

 

He wanted them to know that he was alive. Kylo paced the small room, dragging fingers through sweaty locks. It had to be a trap, he mused. There would be no other reason to hold off confrontation now. Unless he assumed that the anticipation would make them second guess themselves, would cause fighting, would sow discord. 

 

The Emperor always had a myriad of reasons for doing what he did, Threepio had once instructed Kylo when the tutor had stormed out when Kylo had refused to stop levitating objects. Threepio had taken over his lessons as Han had refused to engage another tutor, drawling that the boy could read and his wide ranging interests would do better than any state sanctioned teacher.  Threepio had been thorough in his lessons on the rise and fall of the Empire. He did, however, tend to inflate his own role in it, Kylo thought ruefully. 

 

Kylo ran his tongue over his lips and frowned. There was something that he was missing. He pounded the wall and rested his forehead against it, his mind scurrying to figure out what trap he was about to stumble into--and hauling Rey with him. 

 

The door snapped open with a hiss and he glared at the wall. 

 

“Rey, why did you lock me in?” he growled. 

 

“Because I asked her to,” his mother rasped. Kylo’s heart stuttered and he stood up. He knew how much she valued proper posture. Slowly, uncertainly, Kylo turned to face a mother he had not seen for years. 

 

She was smaller than he remembered, her hair more grey than he had saw for that fleeting moment on Hosnia Prime. She was dressed in a regal blue dress, her hair in fine swoops, her eyes cold and withdrawn. He had aged her, he realized. He had broken her faith. He licked his lips and looked away. 

 

“Look at me when I am speaking to you, Ben Solo,” she ordered and he scuffed his toe on the floor. 

 

“But you weren’t speaking to me,” he mumbled into his chest and Leia tapped her cane on the floor. 

 

“What was that?” She was hard. Her words were hard, her tone unsparing. He looked at her through a curtain of hair. Leia’s gaze was pitiless and searching and he longed for the floor to swallow him. 

 

He had forgotten that Leia’s forgiveness could be an act of war as well as an act of grace. 

 

“What do you want?” she asked coolly. 

 

“Surely you felt him in the Force,” he shot back. 

 

“I thought his return would suit your aims. I’m sure the First Order would rejoice to have their leader return.”

 

“The old guard, sure. But they are either dead or dying, supplanted by hungrier young men who have fought their up the ranks and aren’t willing to bow to a supposedly dead emperor who dispenses favors and enjoys infighting.”

 

Leia pursed her lips. “You did listen to Threepio.” 

 

“He gave too many pop quizzes,” he lamented, offering up a sloppy sad smile. Leia lifted a brow and settled herself on the bunk. 

 

“Your being here raises problems.”

 

“I’m used to that.” 

 

She winced, cane twirling in her hand. She was studying him and he returned the favor.  He didn’t like the stoop in her back or how her hands gnarled. He saw the exhaustion hidden beneath well applied make-up. That weak fragile heart told him to comfort her--cherish her, entreat her forgiveness, lend her his strength. He merely swallowed and lifted his gaze. 

 

“I’m sure your father and I deserved that.” He looked down at her cautiously and her lips tightened as she continued: “But I don’t think that he deserved a lightsaber in his chest for that.” 

 

Kylo let out a shaky laugh. “Even if that drove me back to you?”

 

She shook her head. “Some prices are too dear to be paid.” 

 

“He forgave me. He told me he loved me,” he argued and Leia shrugged. 

 

“He was always too soft.”

 

Kylo scoffed: “A soft war general. Right.” 

 

Leia barked a short rasping laugh. “War takes all kinds.” She stopped and looked at him. “And I guess that means you’ll do.”  Kylo studied her, unsure if he understood what she was trying to convey. It didn’t feel like forgiveness. She was too unyielding for that. 

 

He nodded, cautiously. “I don’t want him back.”

 

“Good,” she replied imperially as she rose. “I’ll leave you and Rey to sort this out. Rey will keep us informed.”  She headed toward the door and the word was torn from his throat before the thought it:

 

“Mom.” 

 

She stopped, curling in on herself. He reached toward her and she batted his hand away. 

 

“Not yet,” she wheezed. He stepped back, a band of steel tightening along his chest until he was sure that would never take a full breath again. What was this all for, he thought wildly. Exhaling loudly, Leia stood ramrod straight, lifting her chin before knocking three times on the door. It slide open and Kylo balked at Poe Dameron’s blaster pointed at him. 

 

“I’m watching you,” the pilot frowned as he offered Leia his arm. Anger sparked and Kylo called the blaster through the Force, grasping it neatly and pointing toward the floor. 

 

“And I’m so scared,” Kylo taunted. Leia clucked her tongue and shot Kylo a dark look. Poe whipped another blaster out and aimed it. His intent was clear on his face, his stance firm, and his gaze unflinching. 

 

“You can’t pull that trick twice,” he snarled and Kylo chuckled. How little he understood the Force. 

 

“Boys,” Leia scolded. “We don’t have time for this. Ben, give me that blaster.” She held out her hand and he could feel a slight tug on it. He wiped the surprise he was feeling off his face. She had been practicing, he thought before he surrendered it, watching her pull it toward her outstretched palm. He understood this power play; he would let her have it. It would be his act of grace. 

 

Poe smirked and closed the door. The last thing he saw was Leia’s brow twitching in thought and in relief, Kylo collapsed on the bed. He let his mind rove over the interaction, over what he truly knew, and just why they were on Endor. 

 

He was still brooding an hour later when Rey came in, carrying a tray of food. She looked worn, her shoulder slumping, her hair limp. He observed her from the corner where he had curled, fingers drumming along his arm. 

 

“I managed to save you a tray,” Rey said as she slid it in front of him. He snorted at the meager offerings. She had a dark stain on her cheek and she reeked of ships. 

 

She reeked of him. She had been working on ships with Poe, had been laughing with him, striking up the camaraderie with him as she so easily did with others. 

 

Kylo’s arm snaked out and he yanked her to him. Her cry was swallowed by a hard kiss, teeth nipping her bottom lip, his hand cruelly curling around her back, fingers digging in her shoulders. 

 

“Ben,” she protested between breaths and he silenced her again, not wanting her voice. He needed something else, his hand sliding up rough fabric to cup a breast. This, he needed this, her startled intake of breath, the slight moan that she tried to hide. 

 

“Strip,” he directed and she pulled back, brow furrowing. 

 

“Strip.” There was no room for kindness in that voice and he stared at her, pulling at her belt. He was tired of her hiding from him. She knew what he wanted. They knew each other too well, too intimately, and this coyness infuriated him. 

 

Rey shrugged off his hand and stared at him. 

 

“Ben what’s going on?”

 

“I’m determining if you are going to be true to your word. You said you were mine. You made that bargain. I’m ordering you to strip. I want--” he cut back, gulping, hands gripping his knees. He refused to reveal all. But she stared and he could feel her hammering at the bond, demanding a reason. 

 

“Because I want you,” he snapped. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

 

She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. He could feel her irritation, waves lapping at him, scolding him without a single word between them. He liked that. He wanted a lack of words. Language messed everything up. The only thing left was action. And that he understood. 

 

He fell to his knees, crawling to her, kissing her leggings, smoothing her worries with soothing hands, fingers trailing along taunt skin until Rey breathed. He mouthed his way up her leg, teeth tugging at the tight fabric, the coarse material rubbing his cheek as he kneaded her hips, mouth dangerously near the apex of her thighs. Her nails dug into his shoulders and he shuddered. 

 

He needed this. 

 

He looked up at her glazed eyes, her half smile, the besotted and confused expression on her face and ran his tongue along the seam of her leggings. He smirked against her thigh as his hand slipped under her tunic. 

 

“You want this,” he breathed. “You’re already so wet for me, Rey.” 

 

“Yesssss,” she hissed, hands fumbling for her belts. He pressed his lips along her cunt, inhaling her musky sweetness, rolling down her leggings with tortured slowness. She whined and pushed at him and he jerked back, stopping, hands steady on her thighs. She bared her teeth and he snarled. Half feral she curled her hands into fists and looked away, pulling the last of her dignity around her. 

 

Hiding the grin against her leg, he whispered: “Strip.” 

 

And he didn’t need to watch her as she hurried to comply while he continued to work her leggings down. She eagerly stepped out of her boots, her body golden and supple in the dim light, uncertainty clinging to her. 

 

“Beautiful,” he murmured, lips skimming along her inner thigh, suckling the soft skin on the back of her knees. She panted and braced herself on the wall. Kylo eased his nose up her leg, fingers sweeping up her calves, along her hips, tips dragging along increasingly dewy skin. She squirmed against him, hardly sure of what she wanted, but wanting it all the same. Her desire rode heavy on the air and it surged into him, his movements growing languid as he licked every centimeter, power raising the hair along his arms, lifting her leg to drape it over his shoulder. 

 

This was what he needed. 

 

She shivered and he ran his tongue through the sopping lips of her cunt, savoring her little cry. He lapped at her, fingers joining his mouth as he found the tight little bud near the front and began to tease it, letting his teeth scrape over it for one moment. She shrieked, pulling at his hair, rocking forward, and he grew more frantic. He slipped one finger inside her, searching for the spot that sent her spiraling earlier. 

 

Rey was a chaotic mess, frantically rolling her hips against his swirling tongue, exhaling through her teeth, her whines pitching higher. He slid in another finger, both pumping into her, curling along her walls, and she sank down onto him, his name a prayer or a plea on her lips, both at once as he coaxed her along. He could feel her walls tighten, pulsing against him and he licked her juices as she cried out, slumping against him, her movements stilled as Rey rode out her orgasm. 

 

Kylo stood, propping her up, her eyes glazed. He pressed a finger into her mouth, watching surprise flood her features before she began to suck. He picked her up, his body tense and throbbing, aching for her in ways he didn’t understand. She wrapped a leg around him as he dropped her ungracefully on to the bunk. 

 

“Ben,” she breathed, arching against him and he froze in the act of shucking off his trousers. Her breasts were perky and rosy and he wasn’t sure what to do next. Did he kiss them? Did he plunge into her and soothe his aching body? 

 

She decided for him, reaching forward and placing a hand on her breast. 

 

“It’s ok,” she murmured, turning to press a soft kiss against his palm. He melted into her, falling into the soft muzzy feeling that she was evoking. This was not what he had wanted. He had needed the power. But as he ran his cock along her wet folds, her body rolling against him, her fingers carding his hair, he thought that this was what he needed. 

 

And as he plunged into her, hips snapping hard and fast, her nails digging into his arms as she matched him, her moans drowned by his ragged breathing, he thought that he was right. This here with her was the only perfection in the galaxy. 

 

“No one else,” he stuttered as he tweaked a nipple, watching her head throw back as she cried out. He bent down and sucked, rolling the nipple between his teeth, Rey groaning. He shifted his hips so that he was slower, allowing himself to impress every moment into his memory. 

 

“Ben, we’re at war. As if we’ll live tomorrow,” she reminded him and Kylo jerked up. He paused. 

 

“No one else. You’re mine.” 

 

She smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Of course. Never anyone else.”  He thrust slowly into her, watching the smile fade into something strained, her breathing growing heavier as she pushing against him. 

 

“You’re mine,” he hissed and she nodded, frantic, as his movements grew more erratic. 

 

“Yes, yours, only,” she babbled, clinging to him as she reached her peak with a sob. He followed a moment after with a groan that seemed to be ripped from the bottom of his soles, barely able to hold himself from collapsing on top of her. 

 

With a sigh, he slipped out of her and rolled on to his side, Rey curling up next to him. She seemed bemused and he sleepily wondered why as she pulled a blanket over them. 

 

As he began to drift off, she whispered: “The bargain works both ways, you know. You’re mine too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect this much softness. 
> 
> Maybe 3 more chapters and we're done? Showdown with the big bad soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Saw the trailer, was listening to Beyonce's "All Night" and this lodged in my brain. Could totally continue it. If I did, most likely an E rating.


End file.
